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Selcouth
Selcouth >> Transfer >> Inbox : 43 // MESSAGES Greetings, colleague -'' : ''The arrival in question (Identification - ''Selcouth) will be transferred into your care tomorrow. Optimal care is required in order for this procedure to succeed. If such a problem arises that the arrival is unable to be successfully relocated, then the Paradoxical give you the right to dispose of it.'' >> Respond : Neglected. Chapter One Selcouth // Institution Water presses around me, dark as a shadow but as frigid as an arctic storm. Swiftly moving currents claw fiercely at my wings - I am sent careening into the belly of the river, and the scrape of stone against scales flashes through my veins in a quick dart of liquid fire. I scrabble around, attempting to find purchase among the endless waves. But there is nothing, nothing - I feel nothing, I feel a void - fear and cold swells around me as I am pushed forwards, forwards, through the shroud of mist and water - Thunder crashes as I resurface. Talons clawing, wings churning at the river below, I inhale what feels like the breath of life. Fresh air, clean air, stark clarity of rain-smelling goodness - my thoughts are fragmented as I drag myself to the pebbled shore, grateful for each lungful, for each breath. I lie there for a few moments, tail still submerged in the river. It's a gift to be so still. I allow myself to relax slightly, even as a light rain begins to fall from the swollen clouds, even as the stinging in my scales begins to intensify. To think that I had once taken this air - this beach, these rocks - for granted. To think that I had once dabbled in such leisures without a second thought ... There's a crunch of talons on stone and a soft whisper of beating wings. Moons, three moons. I'm not alone. Heart thrumming, I pull myself upright, watching the darkness. There's nothing. I see nothing - - something strikes me, then, something - a wave of precognition, a flash of foreboding - and I'm throwing myself into the bushes, just as the world explodes behind me. 3:22.oz // Institution The Hallucination dissolves into oblivion. I jerk awake, quickly, instantaneously; the taste of iron rings from somewhere far back in my throat, and I'm leaning against my bonds, straining against the thick, heavy chains - it takes one wild, disoriented moment for me to realize that I am not in any immediate danger. I lift my eyes slowly, very slowly. Three gazes meet mine - one cold and bright, the other two dark shades of emerald green. A SandWing and two SeaWings - Moledro, Obscurity and Icterine, the Curators assigned to this division. I am almost relieved to see their faces. Almost. Moledro flicks his ears, expressionless, and turns to face Obscurity. "Thirty-four minutes and twenty-eight seconds," he says. "Two and a half miliseconds worse than last time - make sure to mark that down." Obscurity nods somberly and scratches a note on the bleached surface of the paper, which is held in place by two metal clamps. Icterine peers over her shoulder, his eyes never wavering from the small, neat line of text. WIP Category:Fanfictions Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete) Category:Fanfictions (Fanon)